


well i kept seeing you, or so i said

by yuliaplisetskaya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, That's It That's The Tweet, yuuri talks in his sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuliaplisetskaya/pseuds/yuliaplisetskaya
Summary: Oneechan, the moon is bleeding.





	well i kept seeing you, or so i said

When they were young, when the storage room was still storage and not yet converted into a tiny, cozy bedroom for a quiet boy, they shared a bed, with Yuuri to the side that met the wall and Mari to the side that met the floor, because he was scared of falling and she was scared of feeling suffocated. That night, there had been so many guests who came to the seaside town to celebrate something new, or something old, or something else she wasn’t sure of. But they got candy, and wistful smiles from people who wanted children of their own, and dishes they had to help clear. She was supposed to be so, so tired. Yuuri was so, so tired, if his loud snores and stuttering breath were anything to go by. Mari counted sheep, then when that didn’t work, she countedcoun stars outside the window that weren’t visible behind the thick clouds. It took her three thousand counts before she registered noise from beside her.

“Oneechan,” Yuuri whispered. when Mari didn’t immediately respond, he repeated himself, his voice growing more urgent. “ _Oneechan_ ,”

Mari turned to face her brother, scowling and ready to snap at him for being too loud at night. As soon as she looked at him the frown on her face evaporated, replaced by confusion, as she found out that Yuuri was still fast asleep. “Mari-neechan. The moon is bleeding,”

Mari blinked. “The what?”

“Help them,” said Yuuri, pulling the blanket tighter around him. The cold draft seeped through Mari’s now exposed arms before slumber finally claimed her.

 

*

 

“Yuuri talks in his sleep,”

Mari looked expectantly at her parents, hoping they would sympathise with her and let her have the room for herself. Otousan didn’t seem to have listened because he was still absorbed in his morning paper, trying to mentally solve the daily sudoku puzzle without writing the numbers down. Okaasan smiled reassuringly at her, then took one look at her youngest, who nearly fell asleep on top of his plate.

“Yuuri,” Okaasan roused him softly, “did you dream of anything last night?”

Yuuri set his chopsticks down and forcefully rubbed his eyes open. “No,”

“You said the moon was bleeding,” Mari added blithely.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Yuuri retorted with all the authority of a five-year-old. “Moons cannot bleed. They’re immortals,”

“Whatever,” Mari grumbled, even more annoyed now because Okaasan had dropped the topic and moved on to talking about other things.

Yuuri didn’t get his own bedroom until he was ten and won his first intermediate level figure skating competition, but he also didn’t make any more noise during his sleep, so Mari had no protests for that.

 

*

 

Yuuko and Takeshi were the ones who helped tutor Yuuri through his secondary school years, partly because they were capable and he had limited time to study, mostly because they were Yuuri’s only close friends. Yuuri often stayed at either of their houses for the night to review the materials he missed during his time away.

The grandfather clock on the corner of the Nishigori’s living room clanged six times as Takeshi set down his old notes on the floor. He took one look at Yuuri, who was passed out on his couch, one of his legs stuck up on its arm, the other dangling in an uncomfortable position. “Isn’t he supposed to be preparing for the mock exam?”

“The travel back home must’ve tired him out more than i expected,” Yuuko said, taking out her own textbooks from her book bag. Takeshi gingerly rearranged Yuuri’s limbs, careful not to wake him up, and settled next to Yuuko. “Should we go on with our own homeworks then?”

The two of them sat in silence for hours, occasionally talking to each other in hushed voices to compare notes and calculations. Just before the clock struck ten, Yuuko closed her book with a satisfying slam, stretching her arms upward. “I am so ready to never see calculus again,”

“Me too,” Takeshi groaned. “Wait a moment. Isn’t the high school entrance exam just a month from now?”

Yuuko nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Yuuri hasn’t caught up with his classes since his last Grand Prix assignment,” Takeshi said, watching the steady rise and fall of Yuuri’s chest.

“I'm not worried,” Yuuko smiled. “Seriously, though. You’re looking at this the wrong way. Do you really think our local high school will want to reject Hasetsu’s first and only Junior World figure skating champion, fresh out of his win in Canada?”

“You’re going to jinx him, talking like that,”

“No, I'm not,” 

Their bickering was interrupted as Yuuri stirred, nearly smacking himself on the face while murmuring something unintelligible. Yuuko and Takeshi scooted closer to the couch. “Yuuri, you alright?”

“Ugh,” Yuuri grunted. “The _ilium_ ….is on top of the _ischium_ ….”

“Come again?”

Yuuri snored in response.

“See,” Yuuko said, smug. “I told you he was going to do just fine at the exam,”

 

*

 

“I am so going to flunk the exam,”

“Calm down, kid,” Takeshi pushed yuuri back to the couch, but because Yuuri was already about to get up and bolt to the bathroom, he slipped from the edge of the seat and fell on his butt on the floor.

“I cannot be calm! How are you asking me to be calm, Takeshi-kun? The mock exam is in two days!” Yuuri pressed the heels of his palm against his forehead.

“You’ll manage,” Yuuko piped up, bowing at Takeshi’s parents and greeting them good morning before joining them for breakfast.

Yuuri screeched into the cushion.

It took Yuuri the whole twenty minutes of the Nishigoris and Yuuko finishing their meal to recover and silently slide in the empty chair they’d set aside for him. Halfheartedly, he nibbled at his fried egg while Yuuko fought her mother for the TV remote.

“…Stephane Lambiel will be present at the European Championships to defend his title, while Russia’s rising star, eighteen-year-old Viktor Nikiforov, will sadly be taking the rest of the season off due to a stress fracture on the left hip that was discovered after the Russian domestic championships concluded last night,” came the muffled broadcast from the TV.

“Oh no,” Yuuko moaned. “Now you can’t see him at Worlds, Yuuri. maybe next time?”

“I just hope he’s going to be okay,” Yuuri said in a quiet voice. “I only want to meet him when he’s at his best and I'm at mine,”

 

*

 

“Connect, you awful stream,” Phichit slapped the side of his laptop impatiently, bringing it up nearer to the router every so often to make sure it was in fact the illegal broadcast that was lagging and not his dorm’s wifi. “You’re the reason i missed the entire second group’s performance. Screw you,”

When he finally found the perfect position to allow the broadcast to run seamlessly–the laptop precariously balanced on one of his thighs, tilted a bit to the left–Phichit leaned back and picked up where he left off on his reading for that week’s classes. He nudged Yuuri’s legs with his elbow.

“Yuuri, I don’t wanna wake you up because you haven’t been getting enough sleep but Viktor’s on in like, twenty minutes,” Phichit called out. “also Chris, i guess,” he added as an aftermath, because he’d learned that was how it was in Yuuri’s life; Yuuri might have known Christophe personally, but everyone that wasn’t Viktor came as an aftermath.

Because Viktor’s name didn’t even make Yuuri budge, Phichit resorted to shouting. “ _yuuri_ –”

“ECLIPSE," Yuuri shouted back, suddenly sitting up straight with hands outstretched, grabbing at Phichit’s face, eyes still closed shut. Phichit loved horror movies, god bless his soul, but he hated jumpscares with the passion of a burning star.

“Holy shit,” Phichit squeaked out. Cold sweat started trickling down his back, his laptop sliding to fall limply on the bed while he was frozen in place. Yuuri’s grip slackened and he fell backwards with a thump.

 

*

 

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think i’m doing?” Phichit flicked a pinch of salt at Yuuri’s general direction. It hit the lens of his glasses and blurred his line of vision. “I’m exorcising you. Or, technically speaking, the demon in you,”

Yuuri looked at him weird. “Demons do not exist,”

“Sounds about white,” Phichit nodded. He closed the jar he was holding and placed it back on the countertop. “Look, you were speaking in your sleep last night. I asked my grandmother about it, and she said it might be one of the early signs of someone being possessed,”

“God, i wish,” Yuuri replied without missing a beat, fingers flying rapidly across the keyboard on his phone.

“You’re not listening to me,” Phichit whined, leaning in over Yuuri’s shoulder to get a better look at his screen. “What's that?”

“This is what happens when I don’t watch Viktor’s competitions. He gets robbed,”

“Robbed– _Yuuri_. You know Chris is good. Him winning Euros isn’t some huge crime. You’re friends with him? He beat you at JGPF?”

“How is that even supposed to make sense?” Yuuri fired back. “I'm me, of course it was easy for Chris to win against me. Viktor’s… _Viktor_ ," Yuuri shoved his phone under Phichit's nose. "Look at this protocol, it’s a mess. Why did they give him GOE+1 for that quad toe–”

Phichit rubbed his temple. “Well, at least i know you’re not possessed now,”

“Demons aren’t real, the true evil is the ISO technical panel,” Yuuri sniped, still heated.

 

*

 

The first thing Viktor realised after he woke up with parched throat was that it was uncomfortably dark. He was too sleepy to bother with either his contact lenses or the light switch, so he decided to feel his way to the kitchen.

When reaching around for a glass, Viktor accidentally brushed against the exposed blade of a knife and nicked his finger. Hissing, he made a dash for the tap, but he didn’t make it there before hitting his toe on a table leg.

“Why does this always happen to me,” he lamented, placing his hand beneath the running water. Viktor felt two arms wrap around his body and he turned to plant a kiss on his husband’s sleep-mussed hair.

“Sorry i woke you up, _lyubov_ ,” he whispered. Yuuri didn’t answer. Viktor shut off the tap and squinted at Yuuri, who appeared to still be asleep, except he was standing up and still hugging Viktor.

 _Ah, so Yuuri sleepwalks_ , thought Viktor. _That’s new–_

“Vitya,” Yuuri said all of a sudden, his voice loud and clear in their quiet apartment. Viktor startled. “The moon is bleeding,” he continued in Russian.

Viktor opened his mouth to ask, because what the hell was that even, but closed it again. Then he looked at his index finger, skin split open, the blood starting to dry. Then he looked at Yuuri again. “just a scratch. I’ll live,” he said in reassurance.

Yuuri seemed satisfied with that, humming to voice his approval. “Mm. Toe?”

“Probably swollen, but again–I’ll live. No big deal,”

With that, Yuuri untangled his arms and shuffled back to their room. His footfall almost didn’t create a sound against the hardwood floor. Viktor caught up next to him to see that Yuuri really hadn’t been conscious throughout their whole conversation.

“Thank you, _solnyshko_ ,” Viktor said, opening the bedroom door wider so Yuuri’s lolling head wouldn’t hit it.

“The sun takes care of the moonlight,” Yuuri replied before dropping horizontally on their bed and snoring, now truly dead to the world.


End file.
